


Viper and Mongoose

by Sandentwins



Category: Taiyou no Ko Esteban | Les Mystérieuses Cités d'or | The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Animal Metaphors, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Way too many fire metaphors, season 4 speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2020-02-28 13:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandentwins/pseuds/Sandentwins
Summary: Laguerra doesn't know what to think of him. She doesn't want to admit he's managed to win her over. Their fight for control can't grow into anything good, anyway...But maybe,maybeshe'd like to give it a chance.





	1. Chapter 1

The way down the stairs was steep, and the steps were crooked from being so worn out. Adding to the moisture around that made the path slippery and potentially lethal, descending into this rotten old place was definitely unpleasant and hard. But Laguerra decided to ignore this feeling, and held tight onto the edges of the stones as she made her way down the crypt, one step after the other.

Water droplets were falling in puddles below her, the sound of splashes echoing up the stairways distorted by darkness. The light of her handheld lamp was barely enough to chase it away, and created tremendous shadows that danced ahead of her in the flickering flame. Yet she had to keep steady, for any wrong step could mean falling into the abyss of the crypt's broken floors below, and that would not be good at all. 

“Come on.”, she said, more to herself than to anyone. “Just a little more.”

Her voice sounded out in the stone hall, with no one to answer it. Needless to say her lonely feeling didn't add to the uneasy mood of her mission; but she'd take solo scouting over Gaspard's rude and botheringly flirtatious company any day. She didn't need any of that right now, granted of course that she'd have ever needed it. But especially now wasn't the time at all.

Just before she reached horizontal ground again, a sudden dizzying spell made her wince, and she nearly slipped on the last step. Luckily she caught herself, and her feet landed on solid ground again. She let out a relieved sigh, putting down the lamp to sit down for a moment. The stone was wet, covered in moss and specks of dirt, and the air smelled of rain and mushroom spores; but she needed to catch her breath for a second. The descent hasn't been anything exhausting, but she didn't want to risk getting dizzy again, and had to take it easy. These headaches were only getting stronger with every passing day, and more than once she's been on the verge of fainting. But luckily, she's managed to hide it well enough. So far, no one had noticed anything, not even Ambrosius and his so-called observing skills. What an irony that he could easily help her sickened state! 

Laguerra tugged on her shirt a little, taking a deep breath of fungus-smelling air. Around the walls of the crypt, broken-down engravings of men and beasts were staring down at her with side-facing profiles, the rich colors of red clay and lapis lazuli chipped away with time and dirt, drowned out in the yellowish hues of the feeble lamp. She just stared back at them, as if asking what was their problem, for she didn't need any further annoyance. She's already had a lot on her plate, and the past weeks have been absolutely hectic enough. She just wanted to rest a little. 

As she closed her eyes for a minute, tried to think of something else, her thoughts found themselves brought to her usual obsessions. The quest for the Cities of Gold, her father, Ambrosius's next plans to thwart Mendoza and his crew's progress. Only the usual.

Mendoza. This man, this animal, this...this _idiot_! Why was it that he was still on her mind after all this time, why couldn't these thoughts just leave her alone? She hasn't seen him in months now, with everything that's been going on, so why couldn't she close her eyes just one second without her head getting filled with thoughts of him? 

She shook her head, as if to force herself out of this state. She didn't need to keep thinking back to their last encounter. She had a job to do, and she would do it, and then she'd just go forward with her plan. She had to ignore all these distractions, and to keep moving. Just a little more time, and her father's wishes would be accomplished. 

She stood up slowly, as to not make her head spin again. If the messages found in the Saqqarah temple were true, somewhere in this crypt she'd find the solution to the next puzzle, and the key to the fifth City of Gold. The last chamber of the Falcon King was only a few floors away, and his crown was the key. In a short time she'd get her hands on it, and everything would go smoothly after that. It was just a short descent away. Still it baffled her that anyone would ever have wanted to be buried in such a creepy place, for it didn't make her task any easier. Perhaps that was the whole point of it. It was cold in here, and generally creepy...but it had some sort of appeal she didn't quite get. A secluded place, away from the prying eyes of the world, where no one could see what was going on. Where if something were to happen, no one would ever, ever know. No one...no one ever would...

Her thoughts immediately went back to that evening, weeks and weeks ago, on that plateau somewhere in the Horn. That evening when, returning from a scouting job, she's seen him again. And it hasn't been a pleasant reunion at all: swords have been drawn, words have been thrown. Painful memories have been brought back, and the tension has been thickened more than ever. And yet…

No, she shouldn't bother thinking back on it. It was far behind her, now, it was in the past. Even though she now carried with her the marks of that fateful day, she needed to stay focused on the present, and to not let anything sway her from her mission. The rest could wait. It _had_ to wait. She'd deal with it later, but they've lost way too much time as of now, and she didn't want to overstay her place aboard Ambrosius's ship. So she'd just get done with this retrieval mission, pretend to be an obedient associate some more, and then bolt it out of here and never come back again. Just a little longer.

“Just a little longer.”, she repeated to herself, as if to give herself some courage. “A little longer, and you won't be in my way anymore.”

Her gut squirmed nervously as she made her way down, but she decided to ignore it. Now was not the time for weakness. Her goal was close, she could feel it, it was right behind these few turns. Her steps careful of potential pressure plate traps, she kept going, keeping her mouth in her sleeve to not breathe in that rotten-smelling dust that filled the halls. It was horribly foul in here, as if moisture had brought forth all sorts of mold, or perhaps as if rats were living and dying in here. Clearly she didn't want to waste a second in here, so she hurried along to the royal chambers.

But she couldn't help thinking back to that night on the plateau. Where the air was warm, dry, and smelled of flowers and cinnamon. Where plants and rocks were bathed in the light of dusk, where the searing flame of the desert was leaving way to a gentle warmth that soothed bodies and minds. There were no one but the two of them, that night, as they sword-danced in the flowers like age-long rivals of equal strength. For how long have their blades been clashing under the twilight sun? She didn't remember anymore. Nor did she remember when it stopped, or when the passionate heat of their fight started to change for another burning feeling. It all happened so fast, like a viper's sudden strike, like a mongoose's defensive bite, and the ensuing fight where scale and fur met and bodies tangled in a struggle for life, and they fell to the ground and fangs kept biting and claws kept scratching and hearts started pounding and-

-and she shouldn't think of it anymore. It was done for, it was behind her! She couldn't keep thinking back to it, she couldn't let her feelings get in the way again! Ugh, why did she have to fall for the same mistakes all the time? Why couldn't she just ignore her feelings in peace, and treat that mongoose of a navigator like she's done with every other good-for-nothing she's fought? 

Why did it have to make everything so much more complicated now?

When she reached the door of the king's chambers, she stopped to look for opening mechanisms. There's always one somewhere, they couldn't just leave such a place sealed off. But several minutes later, she still couldn't find anything, and sighed in annoyance. 

“Please don't tell me I need the medallions.”, she whined out loud, already exhausted at the thought of going all the way back up empty-handed. “Don't do this to me!”

Knowing it would not yield any results, she still kicked the door in frustration, and only succeeded in nearly breaking her toes on the hard stone. She hissed in pain, taking a step back and sitting down, left with nothing but failure. 

“You've got to be kidding me...”

She rubbed her foot to get the pain to ease a little. Down there, every little noise was echoing tenfold, and she could hear the dripping of water and the buzz of what little insects could still be found so deep down. Her own heart was pounding to her ears, so much she feared it would also get picked up by the echo. So after a moment of seeping in her own frustration, she laid back against the wall, and let out a deep sigh.

“Why does everything have to be so complicated...”, she complained, having no reason not to. “Had things gone my way, I'd already be far from here.”

Far from all these stories of alchemists and hidden treasures. Far from all this chase and this mental exhaustion. Far from whatever plans Ambrosius would dig out from that bald head of his'. Had everything gone her way, she'd already be back home in Spain, living the quiet life of nobility and wealth her family's been stripped from. She'd be powerful, she'd be rich, and she would have done her father's bidding one last time. 

But everything had to go wrong. Everything had to get screwed up, her plans to fail and her projects to fall short. And now she wasn't even thinking clearly anymore. To think she was so close to having it all, yet so far! And it was all _his_ fault!

She grumbled to herself, a hand grasping the fabric of her shirt right above a lingering gut pain. For once that she thought she could get away with her plan, it backfired horribly, and now she didn't know what to do. She hasn't said anything to anyone, nor have they noticed it; but some secrets couldn't stay hidden forever. She'd betray herself sooner or later, and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn't foresee Ambrosius's reaction when he'd discover the truth. Knowing him, he'd either try to fix things himself, with his usual radical methods, or he'd find a way to use her as leverage to get Mendoza to comply to his orders. Granted Mendoza would even listen…

That cursed man. Did he know how she felt about him? Well, she did give him a taste of her mind and her lips back in the fourth City, and even though she's _tried_ to hate him, there was no denying what happened that night on the plateau. 

There was no denying what she told him back then, in a thrust of sentimentality awoken by the burning flame of their embrace. These naive, childish words that she regretted so much the day after, like a drunken mistake laced with shame and embarrassment. These moonstruck thoughts of hers, that he's heard without a doubt, and to which he replied by kindling the flame even further, to the point it burned everything within her, sent her defenses ablaze and scorched the nest of the viper, until there was nothing venomous anymore to her bite, nothing strangling about her squeezing coil, until everything she tried to build to distance herself from him fell down in a pile of ash and burnt cinder. And even when the flames surrounded her, she wasn't afraid at all, for that was what she _wanted_ ; so she let it happen, let this searing heat take a hold of her, let the flames dance in crazed swirls as viper and mongoose kept fighting for control. She burned down like grass in the desert, and now she bore the scorching marks of that pyre on her body. Her scales have been burned away, and now that everything was done, she didn't know how to feel about it. 

Did he know? Did Mendoza know what exactly he did, that night? Once everything was over, no words have been spoken, their eyes haven't met at all. They didn't need to speak at all to know that for all intents and purposes, this night never happened. But yet, under his stoic facade and his stone-cold looks, she knew there was something. In the light of their fire, they've both seen clearly what they wanted to keep in the dark. It was _there_ , and she _knew_ it, and _he_ knew it too, and it all felt like a story of tortured romance where neither of them could afford to speak the truth. They were in opposite camps, and it likely wouldn't have worked out in the end. That's what she then told herself, trying to reassure herself, to forget about it. It would only be a footnote in the long story of their tumultuous relationship, she's thought. No one would ever know it even happened.

Another bit of pain brought Laguerra back from her thoughts. The cold of the crypt halls came back to her, and she realized that the lamp had turned itself off. Quickly, she reached for it in the darkness, and switched it open again to let its weak light illuminate the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, she set it down close, and pressed a hand on her abdomen to try and calm the cramp. 

How foolish of her to forget that burnt grass can still flourish. That when the viper sheds its skin, there's always new scales underneath. That a viper's nest, even when burnt down by a mongoose's touch, remains a nest.

The more time passed, and the more she was thinking of just erasing everything. There were ways to get rid of her problem with barely any effort. But in the back of her mind, a pesky voice kept nagging her, saying that this wasn't the right thing to do. Not for any moral reasons, of course...well, perhaps, a little. She wasn't _that_ heartless. But for a long time, she's been thinking of what she'd do once her time with Ambrosius and the Order of the Hourglass was over. And amongst all the plans she came up with, there was a small one that didn't spoke of adventures or hidden riches. A small possible plan, that of settling down and living a quiet life with a good husband and two or three children. Of course, it's always been quickly dismissed by all her other, much more complex plans of clearing out her father's name and searching for treasure across the world at the head of her own fleet. She wasn't made to be a housewife or a mother, and the very thought was a joke to her.

But now that she's met Mendoza, the thought was starting to come back, like a silent reminder of her little girl dreams. It reminded her that this cocky, insufferable sailor _did_ manage to match her own sass and sharp bite. After a lifetime of winning every duel she'd come across, being matched in skill and strength felt like a pleasant surprise. Like the taste of something new, that from the confines of her gilded cage, she didn't know she needed. And without even admitting it to herself, she started chasing after it, stopping at nothing until this new feeling would finally be hers. She _wanted_ this rivalry, she _wanted_ to be matched; but most of all, she wanted _him_ to realize it too. There was no way he'd fight back against her, no way he'd have given her such a night, if he wasn't into it at all. She was sure of it. Whatever were her feelings for him, she wanted them to be mutual, to know that she wasn't alone with her thoughts, and that she's also left her mark on him. 

And it just happened that now, right under her hand, was something that could help her get what she wanted. Something that could bind him to her, that could perhaps make him stay with her this time, instead of pretending nothing ever happened. _That's_ why she didn't do anything about her condition, even when she's had the occasion. It was a foolish plan, she knew that, and it would likely backfire...but even if there was a small chance that it could work, then she'd take it. And perhaps, those silly thoughts of having a family again would turn out to be real. 

She stood up slowly, deciding there was nothing she could do for now about the dead-end. Best thing was to wait until the kids came and showed her the way, as always. She tugged on her shirt again out of self-consciousness, then started making her way back out of the crypt. 

Just a little longer. A little longer, and she wouldn't have to hide the truth anymore. A little longer, and he would know at last, and everything would finally be settled. For if how he behaved with these kids was of any indication, she knew he would accept what she had to offer him. After all, she's accepted what he's given her. 

In the darkness that surrounded her, no one saw the hand that lingered on the growing curve of her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've ever read my mid-Homestuck era fanfiction, you shouldn't be surprised.
> 
> The second chapter does not take place in the same continuity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What really happened that night, and what made the viper shed her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first chapter at a time where my ideas on Laguerra's character were different, and where my [mock season 4](https://www.deviantart.com/carminekanzer/journal/Mysterious-Cities-of-Gold-Fan-Season-826957390) wasn't very developed yet. This second chapter will as such clash with the first one; that's why we'll say they're not from the same continuity. This one is sweeter, a bit more plot-bound and explores Laguerra's character a bit more. That way there's something for everyone, and everyone's happy. 
> 
> Will I rewrite the first one? Eh, if I get demand, why not. But for now, j'ai la flemme.

The sound of rustling grass made Laguerra turn around, a hand grasping the handle of her whip as a reflex. Should someone come around here, it would not end well; if she's been in the mood to kill a man before, now would be even worse. As put as a predator about to strike, she stayed on edge, listening for any other sound that might cue her further as per who was coming here. Her heart was pulsing in her head, almost in tune with the melody of the crickets and the beating of the hot Egyptian sunset on her face. She certainly was ready to commit a heinous crime if her plans were to be cut short; but another rustle, along with a familiar shuffle of fabric, reassured her that she wouldn't need to.

“It's me.”

When her eyes laid on the man's face, she almost let out a sigh of relief, and lowered her hand. In the reddish hue of the sky behind him, Mendoza's silhouette was difficult to miss, his cape trailing behind as usual as if he wanted to give himself a superior air. Laguerra didn't comment on it, instead relaxing her stance a little.

“I got your message.”, he continued. “You wanted to see me?”

“Indeed.”

He came to stand next to her, to gaze at the scenery below them. They could see the river from here, like a green snake slithering through the ochre desert, giving rise to various patches of trees in the sandy sea before them. The air was warm, and carried a sweet scent that spice traders would have killed for in their early years. From that vantage point, they could see the borders of the city of Luxor, already shadowed in the first colors of the night, as if it were laying to rest. From there on, it was nothing but wilderness and solitary statues, standing in the sand as if waiting for something.

Mendoza stood with his arms crossed, letting the warm breeze pick up his hair somewhat. Like a beacon of certainty, he stood there with his eyes on the Nile, almost indistinguishable from the dozens of other idols she's seen on her way here. How she wished she'd understand what made him so placid, so calm at all times! It was almost getting on her nerves, but she decided to not speak of it. So she simply came closer, and stood next to him to watch the horizon.

“I wanted to tell you that I'm going away.”, she said. “There's no more use for me here, and I'd rather leave before things turn sour.”

Mendoza turned to her, a hint of disbelief painted on his face.

“No more use for you? How can you say that, with everything you've done so far? You've helped Ambrosius too much for me to think you're useless.”

“That's the whole point. I've helped him too much! And I didn't realize it until what happened at the laboratory.”

She held her face in her hand, trying to find a moment's relief from Mendoza's glare.

“And even before that…I wasn't in a better place either. He could have killed the children, that day!”

Mendoza tried to hide a shudder. Being aboard the Golden Condor while it was being attacked was _definitely_ not a pleasant experience. The moment Esteban leaped out to try and repair its broken wing, he felt his own heart leave his chest for a second.

“I thought that didn't stop you.”, he snickered. “What's a child's life to your great plans?”

Laguerra turned her face away, feeling just how ashamed she should have been; it was all catching up to her in a single moment, and it was _not_ pleasant a feeling.

“You know what I mean.”, she protested. “I thought it wouldn't affect me. Nothing ever did, so why would...”

She sighed.

“I have to go. I...I _must_ go. The more I help Ambrosius in his plans, the more I put you in danger. And I came to realize I didn't want that to happen.”

Mendoza tried to say something, but his words got lost in his throat. Laguerra simply searched her belt, and took out a golden item, which she handed to him.

“You might need this. At least more than I do.”

The golden tip of the Pyramid of Mu was shining a beautiful light under what remained of the sun. He took it in hand, and glanced at it with disbelief, as if he didn't understand what to do with it; then he looked up at her.

“Where will you go?”

“I don't know. I’m not sure yet. I thought...I thought coming back to Spain would be reasonable, but I'm not sure I will find anything there for me.”

She turned her eyes to the city below, and Mendoza's followed. They stared in silence for a moment, saying nothing else, before she spoke again.

“You must think I have a crazy reason for doing all of this, don't you?”

“I'll admit the thought has crossed my mind.”

She snickered, a twitch of her mouth betraying a corner smile.

“It's best you keep that idea of me, then. I wouldn't want to disappoint you.”

“That's not what I meant. You know I want to help you!”

He said it a little too directly for his taste, but tried to not let it show.

“Help me?”, Laguerra snickered. “Trust me, Mendoza. If you know what I have gotten myself into, you wouldn't be so quick to say that.”

“You know this isn't important. Someone like you has no reason to meddle with the likes of Zares, unless it's something that goes beyond all morals.”

She had to admit he wasn't wrong. But she didn't answer, simply turning her face away. What help could he be of? She didn't know...she wasn't sure she wanted to consider it. It would be best if he were to keep away from it all, and never stain the image of her he's got in his mind. It would be the best...but she knew it wouldn't happen.

She sighed. There was no going away from this feeling, was there? After all, if they'd never see each other again, what would be the wrong in telling him? She shook her head a little, caught between two conflicting ideas that she knew wouldn't cease until she picked a side. The way his eyes were still on her didn't help either; perhaps that's why she eventually gave up on her ideal situation.

“You said you've known my father, didn't you?”

He nodded.

“His presence in the Americas wasn't a leisure trip. The truth is...somewhat dirtier.”

She gave him a glance, as if to gauge his reaction. But he made none, save for the curiosity such a story would entail; so she continued.

“I was but a little girl when my father founded the Order of the Hourglass with his alchemist friends. Their goal was to find the hidden science of Mu and bring its technology to the world...at least, that's what they claimed. And that's definitely not what the Inquisition saw.”

The name alone gave Mendoza a shiver of bad memories.

“Alchemy was a crime against nature. My father was accused of heresy, and sentenced to the stake. He managed to escape this fate; but from that day on, the Laguerra family suffered disgrace like no other. We...we lost everything.”

Her voice had trembled. Why did it tremble? She was used to the story, she didn't feel anything for it anymore. She knew perfectly well what humiliation, shame and loss were. Not even the memory of her burning house could shake anything out of her, so why now of all times…?

“That's why you're helping the Order.”, Mendoza said, putting the pieces together. “You want to clear your father's name.”

She stayed silent for another moment, but eventually nodded.

“I want to make things right.”, she eventually resumed. “I want to repair what they took from us. I was ready to take matters to the Court of Spain if needed! I was…!”

She failed to find her words, and simply let her heated voice cam down.

"...but now that I’ve seen what Ambrosius is willing to do, I’m not sure about my plans anymore. I knew there would be casualties, and I was ready to accept it...”

She didn't finish. Mendoza didn't need her to.

"...you're not so sure you want to continue.”, he completed.

She nodded.

“I thought I would be happier if I restored the Laguerras' legacy. If I did my share as a member of the Order, to protect and help its members. But I never stopped to think about whether it brought me any happiness at all.”

She sat down on the ground, her arms resting on her knees. Mendoza felt something tinge at his gut, that instructed him to sit next to her. He's never noticed how, from up close, she looked horribly _lonely_.

“What would make you happy, then?”

“I've yet to find out. I thought that...I'd try searching for myself, for once. I've spent my life being told what to do and where my interests lied, but it's not worth it anymore.”

She turned to him. The warm shadows that have settled over them now gave his face a darker look that intrigued her, but she refrained from expressing it.

“The children are following a noble quest. There's a great reward waiting for them at the end of their path. If I tried to thwart them, I would not feel the best about it.”

“You know there's always room aboard the Condor.”, he offered, with the same hopeful tone he had several weeks ago. “You could put your talents to good use… You could stay here.”

He didn't say anything else, but she knew perfectly well what he meant.

“I've thought about it.”, she replied. “But it's not what I want either. Ambrosius would see it as a mutiny, and would retaliate harder against you. And...”

Her gut clenched at the horrible feeling she was getting from remembering.

“I've already betrayed you once. I understand that you've lost all faith in me. What if I end up betraying you again?”

“You won't.”

His hand touched to hers. The feeling surprised her, for its sudden warmth was out of the blue.

“I understand why you did it. But we can help you. Our goal is the same, so why couldn't we work together?”

She couldn't help but smile, a sad and bitter smile. How could a man like Mendoza be both so smart and so naive? Perhaps she's found his weakness after all; had she been anymore venomous than she was, she'd have used it to her advantage, and tricked him with her charms.

But she wasn't that kind of person, and Mendoza wasn't that kind either. Even if she wanted to, she could never bring herself to trick him; not after all the sincerity he's given her. Not after everything she _knew_ was there.

“Perhaps in another time, we would have been able to.”, she simply said. “Perhaps one day, we will meet again.”

The look on his face was so distraught, she thought she'd severely hurt him. But he regained his composure, and simply nodded; yet there was such a sadness hidden under his furrowed brows, under the faint twitches of his jaw, under those little wrinkles around his eyes, that she couldn't help but hold his hand in return. Their fingers squeezed together, his palm real and solid under hers, and that touch in that moment felt like something out of another world. She wanted to give up on everything, to simply come closer and let it wrap around her whole soul, to forget everything else and have his hands chase away every single knot of worry in her body, until nothing mattered anymore. And maybe he felt it too; for they shared a glance, a single glance, and it told her more than words ever could.

Night had long fallen since, and the cold of the desert caught up to her. She shivered when the breeze blew on her bare shoulders, and he drew closer enough to wrap his cape around them. She didn't help a smile, using this welcome pretense to lean into his arm, and slowly drew closer.

_Would it be right?_ , she wondered, gazing at the stars slowly revealing themselves. She didn't knew whether it was right or not to attempt anything. They were not meant to be anything more than vague allies, than people who've 'known each other' like he did with her father. Trying to pursue anything further would be fruitless, and result in her feeling that same despair she's felt upon leaving the fourth City. It was foolish, so foolish...and yet, she was diving hands deep in foolishness without a regret.

"Laguerra...I wanted to say that I– "

She cut him off, putting a finger on his lips. She sat up a little, on eye level with him, and smiled.

“Isabella.”, she corrected in a whisper.

He blinked in surprise, and simply smiled as she freed his lips.

“What did you want to say?”

He thought about it for a moment, but didn't say anything.

“It can wait.”, he claimed. “And so will I.”

Such a response puzzled her for a moment, until it didn't. She nodded in agreement, and inched ever so closer to him, until their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes, taking in the scent of the desert, the lasting music of the cicadas, the welcoming feeling of Mendoza's hands on her shoulders that cradled her in a grasp she didn't want to loosen. She did not feel like biting, she did not feel like keeping up this charade of aggression she wore as a defense mechanism. If she was a viper, then this man could very well be something of a mongoose; and she felt nothing wrong with it, for some odd reason.

Their faces touched again, and this time their lips met. The heat she felt wasn't the same as that of adrenaline rushing through her the last time they kissed, amidst the falling sand and the ever-looming feeling of death that struck her that day. It was something new, something foreign, something _inviting._ In this heat she felt, all it would take was a little spark for the fire to spread; she looked at him, squeezed his hand tight, and there was no denying that he too was feeling the same. His hand rested on her cheek, and as she nestled into it, closing her eyes from how _safe_ it felt, they felt the spark being cast.

That night, the desert burned bright. Its flames rose and spread high, brighter and hotter than any other fire she knew. It burned at her skin, and the viper felt it was all a trap, something leading her to her end; but the more it burned, the more it revealed shiny, pristine scales hiding underneath. As they fought, as they bit at each other throughout the night, the viper and the mongoose burned away in the pyre; and through their words, their touches, their whispers, all the venom and the fangs disappeared, and all that remained of their fierce battle was a dance of flames that warmed her up like nothing else.

She left before dawn, before her partner could wake up and try to change her mind. She knew they'd meet again, and it was but a matter of time until her plans changed; but for the time being, she had to pretend like this night never happened.

Just a little more. Just a little more, and everything would be better.


End file.
